


Jack Dalton and the Terrible Curse Placed Upon Him

by BreakfastTea



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Hurt Jack, Hurt/Comfort, Jack being Jack, jack has no time for stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: Jack's having a bad day. It started bad, it's stayed bad, and some dumbass terrorists want to make it really bad.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Jack Dalton and the Terrible Curse Placed Upon Him

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic Friday request #2 is live! I hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Today was not going Jack’s way. It’d started from the moment he woke up and his coffee machine broke, followed by his local coffee shop being sold out of his favorite bagels. He’d driven to Phoenix and barely walked through the door before Matty was there, ordering him into a meeting and tearing him a new one for not completing a report that he’d totally forgotten about. He felt awful about it, and ashamed of letting something slide, but she wasn’t in the mood for his excuses.

Because they had an emergency and now he and Mac needed to be in snowy Casper, Wyoming of all places. Apparently, a bunch of QAnon nutjobs had decided to take people hostage in a small pediatric clinic because they were convinced the doctors there were passing the kids over to Satanists. Matty wasn’t wasting time, ordering Jack and Mac to the jet. She’d briefed them en-route to Casper, giving Jack a crash course in online conspiracies. It was stupid, it was infuriating, and Jack was not in the mood to deal with a bunch of internet morons.

“The internet was a bad idea,” Jack groused as he drove them away from the airfield and towards the clinic. He huddled into his winter jacket. He hated the cold.

Riley didn’t even attempt to hide her snort over the comms, much to his displeasure. “Somebody woke up in the wrong century,” she teased.

“Hear that, Jack?” Bozer added over comms. “You’re a dinosaur.”

“Oh hah hah,” Jack snapped.

“Hush you two,” Matty said. “Jack, whatever your problem is today, bottle it and deal with it once the terrorists are dealt with.”

“Yeah, you’re rating nine out of ten on the grump scale,” Mac added from the passenger seat. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Some days, Mac, a man just knows the universe is against him,” Jack said.

“Better not be today,” Mac said. “We need to help those people and stop those terrorists.”

Jack reached over and thumped a fist against Mac’s upper arm. “Dammit, don’t say stuff like that. Don’t you go challenging the universe like that!”

Mac held up his hands as if to ward off a bullet. “Wow, okay, you need to relax.”

“I’m relaxed,” Jack ground out.

“You squeeze the steering wheel any harder and I’m gonna have to build us a new one,” Mac said.

Feeling the tension in his hands, Jack let out a sigh. “I just got a bad feeling, okay?” he said. “Stuff’s been going wrong all day.” He gave Mac a brief rundown. “So, you are gonna be careful today, alright? No risk taking. No crazy last-minute plots. The universe is telling us to do this one by the book.”

Another snort over comms from Riley.

“Oh, brother,” Matty groaned.

“You do remember who you’re working with, right?” Bozer asked. “Not only did Mac not read the book, he tore it up and turned it into a bomb.”

“You know what, we’re going off comms until we’re on site.” Jack reached up and deactivated his earpiece. Out the corner of his eye, he noted Mac doing the same thing. “You know me, Mac. I’ve been doing this long enough. I got a bad feeling, alright?”

“Okay,” Mac said. “We’ll be careful.”

“You swear?” Jack demanded, because he knew exactly what Angus MacGyver’s version of _careful_ looked like.

“I swear,” Mac said.

Feeling better, Jack nodded and kept his focus on the drive. They would be at the pediatric clinic soon. He listened as Mac opened a newsfeed on his phone, the reporter breathlessly sharing the terrorists’ demands. Police were onsite and according to their spokesperson, five heavily armed people held the hostages, many of whom were young children.

“Kinda scary what people can convince themselves of,” Mac said.

“Satanic baby eaters, huh?” Jack said. “How do you wanna play this?” Matty had ordered them to aid the local PD quietly. The less bullets flying around the better. “I can get us in, but it’s up to you to distract them long enough for me to take them out.”

“We do not wanna make these people more paranoid than they already are,” Mac said. “We need to lure some out, thin the crowd.” He reached up, reactivating his comm unit. “Hey, Riley, you got eyes on the inside?”

Jack turned his back on too, over his little tantrum now. Still, he couldn’t shake that feeling. He’d need to keep both eyes, and maybe all of Riley’s, on Mac today.

“Duh,” she shot back. “We’re monitoring and it looks like they’ve got everyone locked down in the main reception area. There’s about ten kids and fourteen adults, all being held in place by three terrorists. The others are, uh, well…”

“Kinda looks like they’re tearing the place apart,” Bozer said. “Because they’re looking for something. I think… I think they’re looking for a hidden room.”

“Intel suggests these people believe there’s an onsite ritual room where the child sacrifices take place,” Matty said. “My concern is what they’ll do when they can’t find it.”

“I’ve got eyes on the clinic’s director,” Bozer said. “One of the guards is right behind him. I can’t be sure from this angle, but it looks like he’s got a gun to his head.”

“Are the cops trying to make contact?” Mac asked.

“Yes,” Matty said. “We’re monitoring the calls.”

“Are they a good distraction?” Mac asked.

“Definitely,” Matty said. “The leader steps into an office every time they come through, leaving two guards on the crowd. And the leader likes to talk.”

“What’re you thinking?” Jack asked.

“Sneak in, make some kind of sedative and have you knock them out one by one,” Mac said. “Create any kind of distraction we can to divide and conquer.”

The bad feeling in Jack’s gut grew. Plans that sounded that simple never, ever, worked out. Ever. “What else?” he asked.

“I can hack everything in that clinic with a wireless connection, including locked doors with keypads,” Riley said. “You trap ‘em in a room, I can lock them in until you get there, ready to kick their ass.”

“Maybe we can find a way to trick them into thinking one of those rooms is what they’re looking for,” Mac said. “Matty, can you hijack the phoneline and block the police?”

“This sounds more like a job for Bozer,” Matty said.

“What if we pretend I’m law enforcement but I’m actually on their side?” Bozer said. Jack grinned, hearing the eagerness in the young man’s voice. “I can speak to the leader, act like I’m leaking intel, get him to walk into the back someplace, and then you guys can take him out.”

“After we’ve taken down the two clowns currently smashing up the place,” Jack said. He took a turn and then saw the police cordon ahead, blocking the entire street. Pulling over, he parked the SUV in a parking lot belonging to an IHOP. “We make it through this, we’re coming back for pancakes.”

“Pancakes, gotcha,” Mac said, closing his door.

The clinic was just down the street in its own lot, separated from the small office building next door by a large set of bushes. The sky overhead was beautiful blue, sunlight bouncing off the snow. Jack shivered. He wasn’t made for the cold, and it was just another tick in the column of why today was a shitty day. Still, punching his way through a few bad guys might fix things up.

“We’re gonna approach from the rear,” Mac said. “I’ll get us in. Riley, can you direct us to the medicine storage room?”

“You got it,” she said.

“Okay, I’ve put in a call and the cops are expecting you at the back entrance. It’s the only one not currently covered by the media,” Matty said. “The officers there won’t stop you, but they’re also pretty pissed we’re here.”

“What, think they can handle this shitstorm solo, huh?” Jack said.

“Yeah, and they’re not exactly keen on the idea of teamwork,” Matty said.

“Man, if I had a dollar for every time this has happened, I wouldn’t need to work another day in my life,” Jack grumbled.

“Hey, can someone get a Die Hard marathon ready to go?” Mac said. “Jack’s gonna need some quiet time when this is over.”

Unhelpful local law enforcement always made Jack itchy. A real specific itch, right in his bones. “Let’s get this done,” he said.

Five minutes later, they’d convinced the local PD that they knew what they were doing and Mac had picked the lock to the back of the clinic. Stepping inside, they stayed low as they followed Riley’s directions to the medicine storage room. The small, narrow room lined with shelves, fridges and freezers of drugs, was right at the back of the clinic, near the break room and lockers. No one was back there.

While Mac whipped up something to knock out their terrorists with, Jack kept a close eye on the corridor beyond. He didn’t need Riley or Bozer feeding them intel on the idiots’ location; he could hear everything they were doing as they tried to smash their way into some hidden part of the clinic.

“Okay, I did a little digging into the building,” Bozer said. “And I think I know what they’re looking for. Because there might be a hidden bunker.”

“What?” Jack whispered. “Where?”

“Turns out the lot the clinic stands on used to be a bar way, way back. And they had a beer cellar. And if I’m reading these plans right, the cellar wasn’t properly filled in.”

“Where is it?” Mac asked, still pouring chemicals into one large flask.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Bozer said. “You’re standing above it.”

Mac paused what he was doing. He dug out his knife and handed it to Jack. “Tear up the floor. See if there’s a hatch.”

“Make it fast,” Riley said. “One of the idiots is getting twitchy. I think he’s done tearing up exam rooms. Looks like he’ll be coming your way soon.”

“Okay, we lure him in, get him into the cellar I’m totally about to find, and then force him to get his idiot buddy to come to us,” Jack said, slicing away at the floor panels. He ripped them back and there it was. An actual, honest to God cellar hatch. Jack grinned. “This day’s finally starting to look up.”

“Great,” Mac said in his distracted, in the middle of a build, voice. “Can you get it open?”

“I swear, if this doesn’t open,” Jack said, grabbing the handle and preparing himself to pull. “I’m gonna blame you.”

“Let’s hope your bad day is all in your head,” Mac retorted. “Otherwise I might start thinking you really are cursed.”

Jack sucked in a deep breath and pulled on the handle. To his immense relief, the door cracked open without so much as a squeak. Musty air wafted out. It was a deep drop into the cellar. Jack wasn’t about to go down without a ladder to get himself back out, but it’d make the perfect holding pen for their terrorist pals.

“Alright,” Mac said. Jack looked up and saw him pouring some of his mixture into a bundle of bandages. “Let’s get someone in here.”

“And if I start a distraction and they both come running?” Jack demanded.

“We’ll figure it out like we always do,” Mac said with a shrug. He waved his bottle and soaked bandage. “Go. Get one of them in here.”

Muttering under his breath, Jack headed back into the corridors. Riley guided him to a safe spot. The pair of morons were trying to smash through the floor of a small treatment room, using what looked like an IV pole and a stool. Tall, young and dressed like paramilitary soldiers, both had the look of gym fit bros who spent a lot of time doing weights. They had matching massive rifles slung across their backs. No way would anyone survive a close up shot from weapons like those.

Assuming either of the idiots could find the trigger before Jack took them out.

Riley was right about one of them getting twitchy. Jack watched as he dropped his stool and kicked the wall. “Man, this is some bullshit! Where are these bastards hiding it?”

“Either help me, or cool off!” the other idiot shouted, his face MAGA red. “And come back here when you’re ready to serve the mission!”

Jack slipped out of view as the terrorist did what he was told. He kept going because he could hear the guy coming closer. As he headed back towards the storeroom, he knocked a photo of happy, smiling children askew, the framed image rocking gently and knocking against the wall. He also made a point of clearing his throat.

“Fuck,” came a soft mumble. And then, louder, “if someone’s down here, you better come out.”

Jack heard the gun sliding around the man’s body. Huh. Maybe he was smart enough to know how to use it after all. He made it back to the medicine room, making a point to close the door noisily. He glanced at Mac standing ready behind the door. Jack pressed himself against the wall on the other side.

The idiot barreled in, the stench of gun oil and sweat washing over the medical sterilization. As Jack hoped, the sight of the gaping hole captured his attention.

“Oh shit! This is it! This is –”

Mac was on him before he could shout to his buddy, clamping the clump of bandages over his mouth. The bastard tried to get a hold on his weapon, but Jack stepped up, undoing the strap’s clips and tearing it away.

The fight was already going out of him, but not fast enough. Jack tackled the man to the ground, wincing when he landed wrong on his bad shoulder. The joint held, but Jack knew he’d be feeling it for days.

Cursed. Maybe Mac was onto something. Otherwise, how could Jack be having such a crappy day?

The guy finally passed out. Mac patted him down and removed an array of weapons including two handguns and several knives. Jack shook his head. He dreaded to think what these guys would’ve done if they hadn’t arrived in time.

“Let’s get him in the cellar,” Mac said.

“Got it,” Jack said.

Together, they rolled the conspiracy loser into the cellar. “One down,” Mac said, refreshing the knockout juice on the bandages. “You ready to get the next one in here?”

Jack rolled his shoulder. “Yeah.”

Mac frowned. “You sure? Did he get you?”

“Nah, just landed wrong.” Jack shook it off. “Alright, next idiot incoming.”

“Great, because I’ve got a plan for the other three,” Mac said with a very certain light in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jack asked.

Mac grinned. “Sometimes, you just have to go back to basics.”

Shaking his head at Mac’s boyish excitement, Jack slid back out into the corridor. Already he could hear the other one approaching, calling for his buddy. He’d be on Jack in seconds.

“Bozer, you ready to make that call?” Jack whispered.

“Anytime you’re ready,” Bozer said.

“Do it now,” Jack ordered.

“On it.”

Jack waited at the corner where the corridor turned back into the main body of the clinic. He saw the rifle barrel poke into sight before the man. A wicked grin lit up Jack’s face as he grabbed the rifle and wrenched it forward, using the shocked fool’s momentum to swing him around the bend and smash him into the wall. He tore the rifle out of the man’s grip, tossing it back down the hallway. Neither of them would be making use of that.

“Child sacrifices, really?” Jack demanded, punching the guy right in the designer stubbled jaw. “The hell is wrong with you?”

But this guy wasn’t the same pushover as his impatient friend. He could take a hit, which was fine by Jack. A good fight would clear his head. He ducked and weaved around a series of short, sharp punches, landing a few of his own in return.

But then the asshole scored a lucky hit right where Jack’s shoulder had already taken a blow, and the joint popped clean out of place. Pain cascaded through Jack and he staggered back, his arm useless at his side.

It was all the opening the guy needed. Blows rained down on Jack. He could only block with one arm, and the guy was rapidly overwhelming him.

“You’re not a cop,” he snarled. “Which means you’re one of them! A Satanist! I won’t let you hurt another child!”

A sharp, dragging pain shot up Jack’s arm. What the fuck was that? Before he could find out, Mac was there, taking out the guy’s knees, pinning him to the ground and knocking him out. Jack forced himself up on all fours (well, all threes), spitting blood and wiping more from a cut above his eyebrow before it could blind him.

“Stay here,” Mac said, tossing more weapons to the ground as he disarmed their latest prisoner. He grabbed the unconscious man by the legs. “Do not go anywhere. Your arm is bad.”

“Shoulder,” Jack said. “Not arm.”

“Fine, shoulder and arm. You’re bleeding heavily.”

“What?” Confused, Jack looked at his arm and saw a massive gash running from elbow to wrist, blood pumping free. Dazed, eyes tracking downward, Jack spotted a short, stubby knife. He hadn’t even noticed the bastard pulling that free.

Jack sat back, breathing through the pain, using the sleeve of his shirt to mop up the worst of the blood. Mac returned within a minute, carrying medical supplies. He wrapped Jack’s arm, pressing hard against the lengthy cut. Jack watched the blood blooming across the bright white dressing.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” Mac said. “Soon. You’re losing way too much blood.”

“Nah, be fine,” Jack said. “Just need to catch my breath.”

Matty’s voice fills Jack’s head. “Guys, the leader is on the way and Bozer’s got a plan for the last pair,” she said. “Jack, I can see you on the security cameras. Stand down. Mac can finish this.”

“What? No damn way!” He forced himself to his feet, ran down the corridor despite the grinding pain in his shoulder, the dizziness swamping his senses, and grabbed the rifle with his good hand. “I can finish the mission!”

“You’re putting yourself and Mac in even more danger. Find somewhere to lay low until this little bunch of wannabe heroes are all in that cellar,” Matty ordered. “You can help clear the hostages later.”

“I’ve got this,” Mac said. “Go on. Stay back here.”

“I knew this day was cursed,” Jack muttered as he snatched the rest of medical kit off Mac and ducked into the break room. His arm already needed another dressing, blood seeping through. “Y’all better at least give me a rundown of what’s happening.”

“Fine,” Matty said with a particularly false amount of patience. “Our leader is walking. He’s walking. Coming closer. Closer still.”

“Matty, I swear to – ”

“Swear to me, Dalton, and shut up,” Matty shot back. “Mac’s in one of the clinic rooms. The guy’s gone past him and oh! There we go! A MacGyver special.”

Jack risked poking his head out of the breakroom and saw Mac successfully sedating terrorist number three. Pride swelled in his chest. “That’s my boy,” he said.

Mac chuckled. He removed the man’s personal arsenal, and dragged him down the hallway. “Okay, Boze, what’s the plan for our final contestants?”

“Easy,” Bozer said. “Riley’s hacked into intercom. We’re about to get Hollywood up in here!”

“Just wait until this guy’s safely dumped in the cellar, okay?” Mac said.

“You just say the word and we’re good to go,” Riley said.

Jack wanted to help, but between the pain and the blood loss, he knew he’d only be getting in the way. He returned to the corridor, forcing himself to stay upright despite the lingering dizziness. Holding his arm to his side to keep it from jostling his shoulder, Jack waited for Mac. When his partner stepped back into sight, he nodded, ready for this day to be over. “Well, Bozer, whatever insanity you’re about to pull, now would be the time to do it.”

“I hope y’all are ready for the performance of a lifetime!” Bozer declared.

A moment later, the intercom crackled into life. The lights dimmed, shadows spilling out across the clinic. A single gong sound echoed across the clinic.

“Attention, brethren. Attention. The chamber has opened and is ready to receive the next sacrifice to our dark satanic master.”

Jack snorted, not caring how much pain it sent through his dislocated shoulder. Bozer’s unique set of skills never failed to impress him. It didn’t even sound like Bozer’s voice coming over the airwaves right now. He’d taken on some kind of upper-class accent that was somewhere between New England and actual England.

A strange chanting filled the air. Bozer spoke with it. “Brethren, we are facing unprecedented attacks. It is urgent you attend today’s ritual. We must seek to protect our work from Q. Ensure you wear your robes prior to entering the chamber in the medicine room. I repeat…”

Bozer went back over his announcement, once again asking for the Satanists to attend. And attend the final two morons did. Jack heard them running long before they clattered into sight in all their tac gear.

“Jake must’ve gotten it open!” One man said.

“See? See? Fuck, I knew we were right about this place!”

“WWG1WGA, man!”

“Fuck yeah!”

Mac pushed Jack back into the breakout room, following him. “Matty, get the police to go in the front and quietly rescue the hostages. And I mean quietly. Don’t let them come any further into the building.”

“You got it,” Matty said.

“Riley, as soon as they go into the medicine room, you need to seal the door behind them,” Mac said.

“There’s no way you’re taking on two people that heavily armed yourself!” Jack said, his voice as low a whisper as he could make it. “I told you today was gonna be a bad day, and I was right! So don’t you do anything stupid.”

Mac didn’t reply. The two guys skidded around the corner, into the medicine room as ordered by Bozer’s on going and strangely hypnotic-sounding announcement. Jack heard the door crash open and slam shut.

“Now, Riles!” Mac whispered.

“Done!” She announced. “And good news, they’ve gone straight down into the cellar.”

“Okay.” Mac opened the break room door. He was too fast for Jack. “Let me back in so I can shut the cellar door and keep them down there.”

Jack followed Mac. “This is a damn good way to get yourself shot! They can’t get back outta that cellar so forget it and leave ‘em!”

“Would you calm down?” Mac said. “I’m shutting them down there so they can’t shoot at us. Well, I’m gonna shut them down once I knock them out. I told you, I went back to basics.”

“With what? We already went over this. You’re not going down there!” Jack staggered slightly, so lightheaded, big black dots bloomed across his vision.

“There’s a big ass canister of nitrous oxide in the room. I’ve rigged it so it’ll dose them enough to knock them out but won’t kill them,” Mac said. “They’ll laugh themselves asleep.”

“Oh,” Jack said, feeling his panic washing out of him, probably right along with the blood still coming out of his arm. “That’s alright then. Although your version of ‘basic’ is freaking weird, man.”

“Yeah,” Mac said in a way that made him sound all of sixteen. “I know. And sit down before you pass out.”

“No way. I’m right here with you.”

Riley opened the door and they both stepped in. Mac grabbed a canister, did something with a lever he’d modified and kicked it into the cellar. Shouts of outrage went out, muted moments later when Jack used a foot to shove the cellar door closed. Moments after that, the shouting became hysterical giggles.

Mac let out a sigh. “See? Job done.”

“Definitely one of the weirder ways we’ve finished a job,” Jack said. “Hey, and someone tell Bozer to knock off the weird announcement. I’m starting to think there actually is a weird bunch of cultists lurking around here, ready to eat a kid or two.”

“Cultists yes,” Mac said, stomping a foot against the cellar door. “Kid eaters, not so much.”

Jack sighed. “Can’t believe this day.”

“Yeah, I know.” Mac gently guided him out the room. “How about we find a doctor who’s not too traumatized to fix you up?”

“And then IHOP?” Jack asked. Bleeding always made him hungry.

“And then IHOP,” Mac confirmed.

Maybe the day was looking up after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
